


Silence is enough

by mackerel_pizza



Category: Banana Fish (Anime & Manga)
Genre: Drinking, Grief/Mourning, Implied/Referenced Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-12
Updated: 2019-09-12
Packaged: 2020-10-17 06:09:42
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,153
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20616266
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mackerel_pizza/pseuds/mackerel_pizza
Summary: On the second anniversary of Ash's death, Yut-Lung and Eiji meet by chance.





	Silence is enough

On the second anniversary of Ash’s death, Yut-Lung decides to show up at his grave to pay his respects. He can’t do it in broad daylight – he doesn’t want anyone to think he’s soft like that, nor does he want to be attacked by any of Ash’s associates – so it’s already way past 11 pm and pitch black outside when he makes it to the cemetery.

It’s been a gray day, almost rainy but not quite. A fine drizzle, or just a very persistent fog, makes the street lamps and car lights glow in an almost otherworldly way.

It takes Yut-Lung a while to find the right place, but once he sees it, there’s no mistaking it. A white marble gravestone with delicate carvings of gold, a fresh bouquet of white lilies set in front of it. Yut-Lung doesn’t have any offerings to bring, that would be pointless. He knows Ash wouldn’t want anything from him.

As he steps closer to the grave, he suddenly hears a voice that gives him a start. He’d expected to be alone in the cemetery.

”Hey, it’s you.”

Yut-Lung turns around, and sees a person standing under a tree some 20 meters away. Wearing a blue coat, his posture a little slumped and holding a brown paper bag in his other hand, Yut-Lung recognizes the figure as Eiji Okumura, even if he hasn’t seen the boy in over two years. Eiji’s hair hangs over his face and it’s dark out here, so Yut-Lung can’t make out his eyes.

As Eiji starts to walk towards the grave, he raises the brown paper bag and takes a sip of whatever bottle’s inside.

_Oh_, Yut-Lung thinks, with a pang of guilt. _I really shouldn’t be seeing this_.

”Didn’t expect to see you here,” Eiji says as he gets closer to the grave.

”I should go. Forget you ever saw me, it’s better for the both of us,” Yut-Lung says hurriedly and starts to leave.

”No, no no no,” Eiji starts, and it’s clear from his voice that he’s been drinking for a while. ”I wasn’t expecting company, that’s all.”

Even as Eiji slurs a little, Yut-Lung notes that his English has gotten a lot more natural since the last time they met. _God, so many things have changed from back then. Yet why can’t_ I –

His thoughts get disrupted as Eiji finally makes it to his side, staring intently at the grave. He’s so close that Yut-Lung can smell the alcohol in his breath.

They stand side by side for a while, when suddenly the sky erupts in a heavy rain that has been looming upon the city the whole day. Before Yut-Lung has the chance to say or even think anything, he sees himself grab Eiji’s sleeve and start running toward the gates. Eiji follows in tow, not resisting.

* * *

They take shelter in the first place that’s open, and as they get seated, Yut-Lung notes they’ve ended up in a rather sleazy-looking diner bar. He hands Eiji a bunch of napkins so he could dry himself, but Eiji shakes his head, running his hand through his wet hair.

”What a huge rain,” Eiji says, almost laughing, and tries to take a sip from his bottle but notices it’s empty.

”Put that away, we’re in a bar," Yut-Lung hisses and tries to grab Eiji’s arm.

”I really need a drink," Eiji sighs and sets the bottle sloppily next to him on the worn-out seat.

”I think you’ve had enough for tonight,” Yut-Lung says, even though he kind of shares the sentiment.

He gazes at Eiji, only now registering how small and tired he looks. Yut-Lung is not one to take pity on others, nor is he kind or caring. But no one he knows can see him right now, and suddenly he’s feeling very tired too. So he asks,

“How about getting you some food and then getting you home?”

Eiji shakes his head.

”Won’t you drink with me?” he asks instead, in a voice that sounds surprisingly sober compared to the Eiji at the graveyard just a few moments ago. ”Just a drink or two. For him.”

There’s something in Eiji’s eyes, in the way he says _for him_, that makes it impossible to turn him down just then.

They end up getting two plates of fries and glasses of cheap whiskey sour. When Eiji isn’t even halfway through his drink, Yut-Lung is already ordering a glass of red wine, and then another.

They eat and drink in silence that isn’t exactly uncomfortable, but still has a heavy feeling to it. Eventually Yut-Lung starts a question that comes out more like a statement.

”I thought Sing said you were meeting at the grave in the afternoon...”

”We did," Eiji says. ”But I had to come back alone. I can’t let them see me like this," he continues, making a gesture pointing at himself.

”I know they don’t expect me to hold up all the time, but showing how much I hurt would just hurt them too. So it’s better if I become a mess only when they cannot see.”

”You were quite a mess back there," Yut-Lung agrees.

”I really am, right?” Eiji says and starts to laugh. His laugh is contagious, so Yut-Lung finds himself chuckling, then laughing out loud too. 

Yut-Lung can’t even remember the last time he’s actually smiled, let alone laugh, but now he can’t stop and suddenly they’re ordering a round of tequila and everything gets kind of hazy from there on.

* * *

It’s past 2 am when Eiji stirs awake in a hotel room, fully clothed on a king-sized bed. 

Looking around, it’s pretty clear it’s not just any old normal hotel room but a fancy and expensive one. Eventually his gaze finds Yut-Lung in a chair on the other side of the room.

“Sleep well?”

”Where am I?” Eiji asks.

”You were too out of it to tell me your address, so I got us a cab and brought you here. I practically own the hotel so all costs have been covered, you can sleep here and leave in the morning once you get sobered up. And now that I’ve made sure you didn’t choke on your own tongue while you were passed out, I’ll be on my way.”

Yut-Lung stands up as he speaks and gets his coat that has been hanging from the chair.

”Don’t leave," Eiji says in a voice that, to Yut-Lung, sounds equal parts confused, drunk, and almost... pleading? As if they knew each other, as if Yut-Lung was someone he wanted around. But he knows that can’t be true.

Still, he looks at Eiji, who has started to fiddle around with his own shirt buttons in a really clumsy manner. Before Yut-Lung can say anything, Eiji, shirt half-open, says without any inhibition,

”At least help me get out of these clothes... they’re still pretty wet.”

With anyone else, Yut-Lung would make a note of how indecent all of that looks and sounds. With Eiji, he just feels a pang on his consciousness. 

He knows he should have gotten Eiji out of his damp clothes so he wouldn’t catch a cold, but considering the history they have together, he figured that undressing Eiji without his explicit consent would have crossed a line, or several.

He still remembers how Eiji had cried on Golzine’s bed, after Yut-Lung had freed his tied-up hands.

A part of him had wanted to cry back then, too, but he had long since forgotten how. So he’d hated that naive innocence with a jealous passion.

These days he’d count it a blessing, being able to retain at least a shred of that innocence.

Starting to help Eiji with his clothes, Yut-Lung’s hands tremble just a little as he unbuttons Eiji’s shirt. As Eiji seems to relax into his almost-touch, Yut-Lung starts to tense up. Why does it feel so... normal? Why isn’t Eiji pushing him away?

He doesn’t want to be caught (or catch himself) stealing glances of Eiji’s body, trying to figure out just how bad the last two years have been for him, so as soon as he finally helps Eiji get rid of his pants, he tugs him quickly into the bed. It’s decidedly too big for one, which makes Eiji look like a small, lost child.

”All better now?” Yut-Lung asks, not really waiting for an answer.

”You know, I never expected to–” Eiji starts to say, almost smiling, but suddenly his face twists and all that comes out is, ”I feel sick”.

”Not on the bed," Yut-Lung cries out and grabs the trash can next to the nightstand and shoves it at Eiji.

Yut-Lung hates the sound, hates the smell, hates how it reminds him of all the nights spent alone in his rooms after trying to numb his memories with drink. A part of him wants to run, but he finds himself helping Eiji into the bathroom and lending him a hand with cleaning up.

Sitting on the decoratively tiled bathroom floor next to Yut-Lung, with a glass of water in one hand and a wet towel in another, hair pointing in all directions, Eiji looks almost sheepish.

”God, you really are a drunken mess," Yut-Lung can’t help commenting, but there’s no malice in his words.

”Well, you’re drunk too," Eiji points out, as if that was the biggest burn he’d ever landed.

”And whose fault is that?” Yut-Lung fires back, the playfulness in his own voice coming as a surprise even to him.

What surprises him even more, is how Eiji’s face suddenly turns from drunkenly tired into the saddest expression Yut-Lung has ever seen.

”It’s all _his_ fault," he blurts out, and the words turn into a sob.

Suddenly, it doesn’t feel like Eiji’s talking to Yut-Lung anymore, but to himself, or someone who’s not even here.

As Eiji starts to cry, first softly and soon in bigger and bigger sobs, Yut-Lung can make out a series of questions between the sobs.

”If you had only...

Why didn’t you...

If you just could have...

Why wouldn’t you...”

Yut-Lung knows he can do nothing to ease this pain, so he doesn’t even try. But he also doesn’t leave Eiji’s side.

* * *

Eventually Yut-Lung manages to drag Eiji back to bed and watches him fall asleep, exhausted from the emotional outburst. Yut-Lung feels exhausted too, but he can’t sleep, nor can he leave, so he just sits on the bed.

Watching over Eiji, listening to his calm and steady breathing, Yut-Lung remembers how he used to watch Eiji sleep just like this when he was holding the boy a hostage at his quarters.

What was he thinking about, back then? Why had he been so angry at everyone and everything, anyway? Why had he wanted to burn the world, and himself with it?

It’s been two years, but suddenly it all feels like a lifetime away, like it happened to someone else, in another life.

It’s been two years, and he’s been trying to drown the memories and the guilt so hard it’s the only feeling he has left some days. Most days.

Sitting in the dark, he’s suddenly reminded of something else; that strange, unnamed feeling that watching Eiji would sometimes give him back then, a feeling he hasn’t felt for a long time.

At that moment he knows he needs to go.

Grabbing his jacket, his hand lingers on the doorknob for a while before he turns back.

Finding a pen and a notepad on the telephone table, he scribbles down a small note before leaving for good.

He doesn’t look back at Eiji’s sleeping figure before closing the door.

That’s what he tells himself, at least.

* * *

When Eiji wakes up in the fancy hotel bed for the second time, it’s past 11 am and he’s confused, hungover, and undoubtedly alone. Looking around the room, he finds a note left on the nightstand.

_The room’s been paid for and there’s a DO NOT DISTURB sign at the door._

_Mention my name when you’re checking out._

At the bottom of the paper, there’s some more text and a phone number that seem to have been added in a hurry.

_In case you need anything, call my personal landline_

Eiji stares at the note for a while, not really knowing what to do with it. Eventually he folds the piece of paper and tucks it in his wallet.

* * *

Yut-Lung spends the next two weeks waiting for a call that never comes.

He tells himself he never expected Eiji to call. He has no reason to expect anything at all.

In the following months, he stops waiting but a part of him doesn’t stop hoping.

It’s only when the third anniversary of Ash’s death is coming up, when he’s almost, almost, forgotten the whole thing, that his phone finally rings.

”Same time this year? I’ll meet you at the grave.”

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading! I have too many Eiji/Yut-Lung ideas, but this is the only one I've managed to write down so far.


End file.
